


Into The Deep

by agressivePushover, Cheylouwho



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-21 06:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11352027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agressivePushover/pseuds/agressivePushover, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheylouwho/pseuds/Cheylouwho
Summary: South Park police has opened an investigation into the mysterious underground drug ring, Tweek is acting strange and a body has just turned up in Stark's Pond.  All Craig wants is to keep Tweek safe, but the deeper he digs, the higher and more dangerous the stakes become.==Indefinite Hiatus, sorry==





	1. Brushing the Surface

**Author's Note:**

> Introducing a new collab between me (Cheylouwho) and my datemate (ap: that is me =P). Enjoy! Please mind the tag warnings as the fic goes on, we will be adding them as they apply.

He gripped at the knife in his hand, staring down the opposing team. It was a two-on-two match, his favorite. The air was cold, a light breeze kicking up some leftover snow on the ground. As he exhaled, a burst of his warm breath levitated visibly in front of him. He'd been practicing his moves for three years now, and he wasn't about to lose. With another quick breath he lunged forward at his opponents, letting out a warcry and brandishing his knife-

"Hey! That's not fucking fair!"

Craig flew back in the dirt, holding at his now bleeding nose. "You're not supposed to actually hit me, Jimmy!"

"I don't remember that rule." Clyde smirked, giving Jimmy a high five.

Tweek ticked, making an unhappy noise. "No, that- ngh, that's a foul! You're not allowed to hit anyone, what if- what if you broke his nose or, or worse!"

"Stop being a p-p-pussy," Jimmy commented, examining the bottom of his now bloodied crutch. "You b-brought a real knife. I got f- fuhh-..freaked."

"Yeah, Tweek, he deserved it." Clyde was practically hanging on Jimmy's shoulder, sticking out his tongue. At thirteen years old, he was still just as chubby and obnoxious as when he was a (younger) child. "If you wanna fight, you better fight. He was comin' right at Jimmy like a madman."

"Dude, step off." Craig glared at his friends, slowly stumbling over to Tweek and placing a hand on his shoulder. They'd been together for three years running now, and with time, he'd gotten used to sticking up for the both of them. It wasn't unusual for their group to kid around, but sometimes Craig got a bit too defensive.

"Jeez, both of you are being _dumb_ today," Clyde sighed, searching the slush for his dropped weapon. It was just a stick painted gold, but he was too lazy to make a new one. "Just hurry up, I wanna play some more before dinner."

"Whatever. If you hit me again though, I'm going home." Craig gave Tweek another reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping to the side, wiping at his nose again with the hem of his homemade cape. "Clyde, Tweek, it's your turn."

They both got ready to fight when Tweek's phone rang. "Aw, come on!"

"You've g-guh- got to be k-kidding me."

"Tweek, are you fucking serious?" Clyde grumbled, kicking at the dirt. "Don't tell me you gotta run home again, this is the third time this week! We've barely been playing for an _hour._ "

"Hold on, maybe they just wanna check on me I- hold on!" Tweek answered the phone, murmuring about how fucking stupid it was that this happened every goddamn time.

"Yeah, shut the fuck up, Clyde," Craig echoed, crossing his arms. He wasn't wrong though. Every game seemed to be interrupted lately. It was getting to be annoying, especially with how busy Token was with extracurricular activities. They never had the time for team fights anymore, and one-on-one was frankly too boring. He turned to Tweek, watching intently as he began to talk into the phone.

"Hello?- But dad it's- I'm playing, come- come on can't you- ngh- No, I swear I'm- No! No! I... Fine! Fine okay, I'm c-coming I- I'm coming! Goodbye!" He hung up the phone, taking the time to glare at the object as if it had betrayed him instead of his father.

"What'd he say?" Craig asked, still staring at him. "Don't tell me…"

"He said I gotta do the five o'clock delivery _again_! It's not fair, why do _I_ have to do it everyday, it- I, I wanted to stay here with you, not go... Fuck, I hate it I want out, I want out!" Tweek pulled at his hair, obviously unnerved about the whole ordeal and not exactly the most excited to go home.

"Are you serious?" Craig gasped, exasperated. "If you leave, I don't have a teammate!"

"Craig's being a whiny bitch today," Clyde commented, rolling his eyes. "Dude, just see if you can text Token or something."

"I texted him earlier, he can't come. _Tweek,_ are you _sure_ you can't stick around? What's the worst that could happen?"

"My parents could sell me into slavery or take my coffee away or- AHH IT'S TOO MUCH PRESSURE!" Tweek pulled fervently at his hair and shirt, twitching like mad and trying to curl in on himself.

"J-J-Jesus!" Jimmy stuttered, eyes going wide.

Craig's body released it's frustrated tension, immediately moving over to Tweek. "Hey, hey- s-sorry, no, it's fine. I don't want you to get in trouble or anything." He wasn't going to lie; there were times he was really worried about him. The kid's parents gave him awful vibes every time he visited. It was like they had eyes everywhere. No matter where they were in the house, there was a sense of being watched and listened to. No wonder Tweek was always so freaked out. "Just go home and take care of stuff, okay? Text me when you're done, maybe we can get together after dinner."

Tweek looked up at Craig, clinging at his jacket a bit. "Y-... Yeah, after dinner. I can come back after dinner…" The blonde bit his lip and jerkily moved to hug Craig, jolting into his arms and smooshing his face in his shoulder. "I'll come back when I'm done I- I promise…"

Craig sighed, relaxing into the embrace. "Okay, I guess I'll see you later then." He hesitated, almost worried to let go. "You sure I can't go with you? I dunno, these deliveries...maybe you shouldn't go alone." Tweek was always so quiet about it, so it was hard to tell what exactly he was doing. It always gave him a bad feeling.

Tweek's eyes widened, and his grip tightened a bit too noticeably as he shook his head against Craig's shoulder. "No no, no, I'm fine… I'm fine alone, it'll be okay. I'll go fast okay? I'll go fast and... and then we can go back to playing, right?" Tweek moved to look up at him, eyes betraying a bit of the fear he felt.

"Alright." Craig gave him a reassuring smile and one last squeeze before letting go. "Oh- hold on, don't go yet." He stooped back down to the ground, searching until he found the knife he'd dropped. "Borrow this then. Ya know, just to be safe." He was sure his mom wouldn't miss it from the kitchen for one more day.

"Thanks," Tweek muttered, looking bewildered at the knife now in his hands. "I'll keep that in mind…"

Satisfied, Craig waved to the others. "I'm going home too, then," He said, pulling his cape a little tighter around his shoulders. It was getting cold, and he needed a break. Besides, he didn't have anyone to fight beside him now.

"CRAIG, YOU CAN'T GO HOME!" Clyde begged as he and Tweek began to head down the hill, going their separate ways.

"Wuh- well, I guess it's just the t-t- t-... two of us now, ey Clyde old p-pal?" Jimmy winked at his friend, casually sauntering over and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Clyde jumped at the sudden touch, rolling his eyes. He leaned into his hand, sighing. "I guess so. Looks like we're the only ones who actually wanna play these days." He twirled his play weapon in his fingers, watching it spin. "You up for some one on one?"

"You knu- know it, compadre." Jimmy smiled and stepped away to ready himself for their friendly duel. The two of them began to jump back and forth, swinging their weapons and giggling as they kicked up the snow.

Craig just pulled his cape closer around himself as he marched down the hill, his friends' giggles fading as he headed home. It just wasn't fair! He always got the short end of the stick when it came to their fantasy game. He liked Tweek being his partner - they made a great team when he was actually around - but that's just it! Tweek wasn't around most of the time anymore. Oh well; now all there was left to do was head home and hope dinner would be ready.

It was hard to keep his mind from wandering.

These deliveries though… They hadn't been sitting right with Craig. Tweek always seemed so scared about them, and not the normal kind he could snap out of with a bit of soothing. It was in his eyes, and it was starting to freak _him_ out.

Craig had never been much for showing care towards other people, but with Tweek, well… He didn't know, it was different. He knew this all started out as a ruse but he was glad that it had gotten so real over the years. And if Tweek was in some kind of trouble, he wanted to know if he could help.

With thoughts still spinning in his head, the exhausted teenager climbed the steps up to his front door and pushed it open. "Moooooom! I'm home!" he called, pausing until he heard her yell a quick hello in response. He discarded his wet, slush-filled boots at the door, rubbing at his arms in attempt to warm himself up. He could hear the TV on in the living room, blaring cartoons. His sister, Ruby, was probably going to hog it all evening until his dad turned on the news. He sighed with frustration, stomping up the stairs and letting the makeshift cape untie and flutter to the floor behind him. He'd pick it up later.

Craig eventually made it to his room, kicking open the door as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He'd taken ten minutes to get home from when he'd last seen Tweek. How long did those deliveries last again? Shrugging, he flopped on to his space-decorated comforter and pulled up his number.

_5: 17 PM Craig: hey dude where are you_

_5: 17 PM Craig: are you done yet_

_5: 18 PM Craig: i kinda wanna finish playing_

He paused, staring at the dimly lit screen.

_5: 18 PM Craig: or something idk whatever you wanna do_

_5: 18 PM Craig: just text me when ur done_

Craig sighed, setting his phone down and rolling over on his bed. He wondered if Tweek was okay. Not just with this delivery… The Tweaks always creeped him out. He wondered if Tweek was safe with them…

No, he was. Someone woulda figured it out already, and they aren't exactly pulling any methodical fire alarms, here. Sure, Mr. and Mrs. Tweak were _weird_ , but Tweek woulda told him if they were doing something really bad. He told him everything.

"Craig! Dinner!"

He glanced at his phone one more time, hoping for an answer. Nothing. Nothing at all. "Jeez, Tweek, you're leaving me hanging…" He quickly began to type, feeling uncharacteristically desperate.

_5: 21 PM Craig: heeeeyyyyyy im going down to dinner ok i prob wont respond_

_5: 21 PM Craig: so if you text me ill get back to you later_

_5: 21 PM Craig: ok?_

He set down his phone, biting his lip. "Come on, Tucker, stop worrying, you're acting like your boyfriend," he muttered, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Whatever. Tweek was fine. He left the phone face down on the bed before sliding off the sheets, feet hitting the floor.

"COMING!" he shouted, skittering out the door and going down the hall. As he descended the stairs, he looked back just one more time towards his bedroom. If it was really just a delivery run, he'd have his phone-

"FUCK!" he screamed, stepping on the cape he'd lazily discarded earlier. He went tumbling down the remainder of the stairs to the floor. "Goddammit!" he whined, rubbing at his arm as he sat up.

"Did you really just fall?" his father's voice asked. Craig jumped, eyes darting up to see the tall man towering over him.

"No," he muttered, embarrassed as he flipped his father off. _Just preoccupied is all._

"Oh," he replied, shrugging his shoulders and heading towards the table. Craig wobbled to his feet, deemed himself not broken, and hurried to catch up.

Dinner at the Tucker house was pretty predictable. Craig said something about his day ("Tweek had to leave early again,"), Mr. Tucker "Oh"ed him, Mrs Tucker scolded her husband ("Don't just 'oh' him Thomas!" "Yeah, don't just 'oh' me!"), and everyone flipped each other off. It was just their way of interacting. They all understood that no harm was ever meant by it, so it worked out.

Tonight, however, went a little different. After the initial flipping off, Craig just… Couldn't help it. He needed to get something off his chest.

"Um...Mom, Dad? Do you think Tweek is… safe with his parents?"

Silence. No 'oh's from his father or anything that normally followed. Craig shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and Ruby just pushed around her mashed potatoes. It was… awkward.

Finally, his mom broke the silence with a soft cough. "Honey, what do you mean by that?"

"I mean, uh, Tweek just always seems so nervous, and they make him go on these weird deliveries that he'll never tell me about… I always feel weird when I'm in their house. Do you think they're doing something to him?"

"I...I dunno, that's not really…" she paused, almost unsure of how to continue. "Hmm. Maybe you should bring it up with him? I really don't know what else to tell you, Craig, but I've talked to his parents before and they seem just fine." She gave him a small smile before reaching for one of the bowls on the table, trying to change the subject. "Do you want more mashed potatoes?"

Craig looked down and shook his head. "No mom, they- they make me feel uncomfortable. Whenever I go over their house it feels like someone's watching us… And Tweek's always so jumpy, and some of the things he says… Don't you think something might be wrong?"

"Craig, honey, I said I don't know," she repeated, setting the bowl back down on the table. "Tweek's always like that though, isn't he? He's got that ADHD or something like that, I suppose it's normal for him. I wouldn't worry. I think it's great he helps so much with the family business, I'm sure he's a great help."

"Mom, I've seen kids with ADHD, _Clyde_ has ADHD, listen- Would you _ever_ let me drink anywhere _near_ as much coffee as he drinks?" He needed her to understand.

"It's none of our business," she sighed, scooping a bit more potatoes for Ruby. "I can't tell them how to parent. There's nothing we can do about it, alright? Don't worry about your boyfriend. He's going to be just fine."

"You wouldn't say that if it was _your_ boyfriend! Mom, he's been drinking ten cups a _day_ since he was _eight_! He's constantly worried his parents are gonna sell him into slavery if he doesn't listen, isn't that _bad_?! I'm sure there's _something_ we can do!"

His mother shifted uncomfortably, refusing to make eye contact. "Craig, we're done talking about it."

Craig banged a fist on the table, frustrated and distressed. "No we're not! He's my boyfriend and I'm worried about him! You're an adult, there's _gotta_ be something!"

" _Craig William Tucker_ , I said _enough."_ She glared at him, giving him a look that dared him to continue. "Finish your dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Craig grumbled. He pushed his plate away and stood up, deciding to go back upstairs. He had to check to see if Tweek messaged him. With a frustrated huff he climbed his way back to his bedroom, flopping back onto his bed and flipping over his phone.

Zero notifications.

"Dude, what the fuck?" he muttered, raising an eyebrow. He picked up the phone and unlocked it, opening their chat.

Nothing.

_5: 54 PM Craig: dude what the fuck where are you_

He set it back down, resting his chin on his crossed arms as he laid on his stomach. He stared at the screen as if it would make something happen; maybe if he stared hard enough, that little typing bubble would appear. As the seconds slowly ticked by, his panic began to return. Were his deliveries supposed to last this long? He said he'd text him after he was done, the messages weren't even showing as read!

_5:58 PM Craig: tweek im serious, text me back_

_5:58 PM Craig: i know you don't put your phone on silent unless its an emergency_

_5:59 PM Craig: wait_

Jesus Christ! He set down the phone, blinking in thought. Was he in danger? Nothing was lining up today. Craig slid back off the bed, taking his phone with him as he left his bedroom and headed down the stairs.

"Mooooom! Mom!"

No answer. She was probably busy. "Goddammit," he muttered, stomping towards the living room as he continued messing with his phone. The vibration of an incoming message made him jump, quickly switching back to his messenger.

_6: 04 PM Clyde: dude are we playing more r what_

"Ughhhhhhh," he groaned, clicking the screen off and flopping onto the couch. The news was playing quietly, his dad sitting in a chair across from him. He rolled his eyes, letting his attention wander towards the screen. A news anchor was introducing a new story.

" _ **...The alleged South Park drug ring investigation is still under development tonight..."**_

Craig perked up, suddenly interested.

" _ **This long running case has been the talk of the town ever since South Park Police Chief, Sergeant Yates, declared it a threat to the city in November. Officers have been looking into the many missing person cases believed to be associated, as well as the various suspected houses in our neighborhoods. According to Yates, he believes they are quote 'coming one step closer to cracking down on the source of the illegal trade and distribution.' If you see or hear anything suspicious, do not hesitate to report it to officials. Stay safe everyone. In other news-"**_

"I bet ten dollars it's the fuckin' McCormick's," his dad muttered, shifting in his chair. "They've got all sorts of shit in their yard, I wouldn't be surprised…"

Craig grimaced uncomfortably, eyes darting back to his phone. He opened back up his conversation with Clyde.

_6: 10 PM Craig: idk tweek wont fucking message me back_

_6: 10 PM Craig: he wont answer his phone its really weird and tbh im worried_

He glanced back up at the TV. They'd been talking about the drug ring story for nearly two months now, but he was getting a strange feeling in his stomach he'd never gotten the last time he'd heard about it.

_6:11 PM Clyde: calm your shit dude, tweek flakes sometimes. hes probably chugging coffee somewhere away from his cell, maybe try calling the home phone?_

Craig sighed, pressing his phone to the front of his forehead and closing his eyes. Clyde didn't get it.

_6: 11 PM Craig: no you dont understand then his parents are gonna fucking pick up and im not in the mood to deal with that right now ok_

_6: 12 PM Craig: theyre just creepy_

_6: 12 PM Craig: weird_

_6: 12 PM Craig: you only talk to them if you have to okay_

Craig had always felt a little wary around his boyfriend's parents. They'd always be checking up on them, and they'd offered him coffee on at least fifteen occasions at this point. However, that was nothing compared to how he'd seen them act when they thought he wasn't around. He'd seen them tell Tweek some pretty terrible things… He even remembered hearing from Token about the first time he'd been over at Tweek's; his parents apparently got mad he didn't lock the door or something, they flipped! It just had never sit right with him… He could tell they were trying to seem more approachable and friendly when he came over too; they always had this strained look suggesting they were hiding their true feelings…

It just creeped him out. Sometimes he wished he could just take Tweek away from them and have him live at his house… but it didn't work like that. His parents wanted him around. _Probably because he's their errand boy_ , Craig thought bitterly.

The bottom line was, something was very wrong with Tweek's parents. He was… worried. He was very worried about it.

_6: 15 PM Clyde: fine whatever then i guess thats not gonna work_

_6: 15 PM Clyde: idk what to do then lol_

"Fucker," he muttered, dropping his phone lazily onto the couch beside him and staring blankly at the TV screen. The news was still blabbering, but he couldn't seem to focus on it. His mind was elsewhere. Whatever was going on tonight, he would just have to find out tomorrow at school. Clyde was probably right. Tweek was just being a flake again.

He could only hope that was the truth.


	2. Testing The Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chey: sorry for taking so long I was at a teachers workshop this month and didn't get a lot of time to work with casper
> 
> Edit: sorry fixed the formatting it got weird when I copied it over :)

_He was six the first time they asked._

_“All you have to do is take the money, pick up the package and bring it home,” his father had told him. “Don't worry Tweek, it'll be easy. Easy as taking a sip from one of Tweak Bro’s fine coffee blends. Like the bright light of a Summer day, Tweak’s coffee is always there to give you that pick me up you need to go about your daily business.”_

_He’d cried and thrown the biggest fit he could manage, but they wouldn’t budge. This was his responsibility now; he was a big boy, he could go alone. The next thing he knew, he was being shoved out the door with nothing but a fistfull of money and a slip of paper with some numbers written on it._

_He was terrified._

_He didn’t even know what he was picking up, let alone where he was going. What did the numbers mean? He was so confused, and he began wandering around town aimlessly, looking for the right house. There had to be somewhere that matched the scribbles he was provided with. The more he stared, the more they seemed to dance around the page. His finger gripped it tightly, almost threatening to rip it in half with anxiety. He didn’t know where he was anymore._

_His small hands crossed his body, clinging tightly to his own shirt, nails ripping at the fabric. It was getting colder. Darker. This wasn’t where he wanted to be so late in the day. Who on earth sent their kindergartener out on their own in this part of town? He wanted him mom. Okay, maybe not his mom, but a mom who could hold him and carry him home, away from this scary place. He shivered, tears threatening to spill. He really did want to go home, even if it wasn't always that great either._

_Mom and dad didn't pay too much attention to him. They only really even noticed he was around when he wanted coffee._

_He really liked coffee. He hadn't at first, because it tasted bad and made it hard to sleep, but it made people pay attention to him for a little, and it was nice and warm…_

_He wished he could be warm right now. He wanted his coffee._

_Tweek paused in the middle of the sidewalk, his lower lip trembling. He could feel the tears pricking the corner of his eyes now, rolling softly down his small cheeks. This was too much for him. He was more lost and alone than he had ever been before. There wasn’t a lot around him now; the tall buildings and nice homes had disappeared after he wandered over the railroad tracks. This part of town was the kind he’d always imagined when his parents had described threatening places. Dark. Dirty. Broken. The fear of someone, perhaps a kidnapper, jumping out at him caused his tears to momentarily subside. He had other things to worry about._

_This was a dangerous place._

_Tweek began to walk forward again, anxiety building until he spotted another kid around his age playing in the snow. Why was anyone else out this late? It was so cold and dark…_

_“Hey!” Tweek scampered over to the kid, who seemed to be wearing a really big orange jacket that covered his mouth. “Hey, do you- you know where this-- ack!-- this is?” He pulled out the little paper and showed the other kid._

_The small boy in the orange hood came closer, intrigued. It was hard to read in the dim light, but he took the paper and looked it over anyway. “That’s my number,” he mumbled, pointing towards the building behind him. “That’s my house. How come you’ve got my house on that?”_

_Tweek frowned and looked at the paper. “I dunno! The -- nngh -- my, uh, my parents, they gave me this, they wrote it!”_

_The little boy thought for a moment, glancing back at the house. “I didn’t see him today,” he said bluntly. “He didn’t go to the garage. He always goes there.” Small hands grasped at the hood on his face, pulling it down just enough so his mouth was visible. “Did he send you ‘nstead?”_

_Tweek tilted his head. “Who, who comes? My dad? Do you know my dad?” He was confused, the garage? Was he supposed to go there?_

_“I dunno, I don’t pay attention!” the boy replied, tone almost hostile. “Just some real tall man. He goes in there and he leaves and that’s just how it goes. If it’s your turn you probably gotta go there too.” He shifted uncomfortably, turning back towards where he was playing._

_Tweek bit his lip and shivered. Alright, he needed to get going._ _He slowly trudged towards the garage, nervous about what might be inside. Just give the money and go back home with the stuff. That's all…_

_With a shaking breath, the small boy pushed open the door, peering inside. The first thing that caught his attention was the group of older men gathered in the corner of the room. Along the back shelves were bottles and other junk. Something was cooking on the stove, filling the room with a disgusting scent. Tweek gagged, pulling his shirt over his mouth and nose before pressing onward, legs wobbling with each step. Give the money, go home. Give the money, go home. Give the money…_

_“Jesus Christ, what the fuck is that kid doin’ here?” one of the voice whispered, their eyes darting towards him._

_“Is that the McCormick kid?”_

_“Nah, he ain’t got the hood.”_

_One of them stumbled forward, a strange look on his face. He was obviously intoxicated. “Hey… what the fuck ya doin’ here?”_

_Tweek reached into his pocket quickly, hands trembling as he pulled out the money. “My-- m-my dad said -- ack! -- said t-to give you this and-- and then you'd give me a ba--bag to bring back…” He gulped. Oh man, were these guys gonna kill him or something??_

_The drunk man in the middle raised an eyebrow, looking at the wad of cash. “You’re Richard’s kid?” he asked, snatching it out of his hand. He thumbed through the bills, counting to himself. “Tom, get the shit for ‘im.”_

_Just as quickly as he’d handed over the money, a small bag wrapped in plastic was thrust into his arms. Almost anxious for him to get out, the men practically shoved him out the door back into the night air, slamming it behind him._

_It was the first of many more deliveries to come._

 

* * *

 

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Craig’s eyes fluttered open, immediately pulling the flaps of his hat further down over his ears. “Mother _fucker,_ ” he muttered. Time to get up already? It felt he had only just gotten to sleep. Oh well. With an unhappy sigh, he kicked his blankets away and sat up, rubbing at his eyes. It was a school day- he had to see Tweek today, right?

Craig rolled out of bed and got to his feet, trudging grumpily to the bathroom like he did every morning. The tile was cold, but he was used to it at this point. The teenager hated the taste of morning breath and always wanted it gone as soon as possible, so brushing was always first on the agenda.

Craig approached the mirror, sleepily pulling his hat off by the left ear flap and examining his face in the hazy reflection. He had the worst case of resting bitch face, only accentuated by the sleep in his eyes. Oh jeez. He brushed his thumbs against his eyelids in an attempt to wipe it away, running a digit down the side of one of his cheeks to pick at a bit of acne near his chin. Puberty had been somewhat kind to him so far; unlike poor Clyde, he’d been spared from some of the more unpleasant side effects. He still had his little round face, messy dark hair, and a mass of freckles that painted splotchy constellations over his dark skin. His mother had always told him it made him look “cute”, but he wasn’t so sure about that. He wasn't _cute_ ; he was super _manly_.

Anyway. Onto that morning breath.  
  
He picked up his toothbrush, admiring the racecars running along the handle in a childish fashion. Token had told him it was dumb to still have those kiddy toothbrushes, but he thought they looked neat. Token didn't know shit anyway, who was he to tell him when he was too old for racecar print toothbrushes? He giggled to himself at the thought of his friend as some sort of childhood police officer. _Stop right there, racecars are for babies!_

Craig squeezed a bit of toothpaste onto the brush and went to begin cleaning his teeth, but he stopped before it reached his mouth, still staring at his reflection. He had a habit of hyperfocusing on the small things; maybe that’s why he was being so paranoid about Tweek. As he stared at his own reflection, he imagined the other boy in the mirror instead. Tweek had a mousy face, with even more freckles nearly covering the entirety of his cheekbones. Craig furrowed his brow, focusing harder. Hazel and green eyes, wild white-blond hair strewn in all directions, bandaids decorating his fingers and occasionally his chin, the way his ears stuck out from all the fluff. Tweek said it was ugly. Craig thought it was adorable.

He shook himself out of the trance. He needed to get this damn taste out of his mouth or it would be all he could think about until he ate breakfast. The gangly teen sighed and casually flipped off the mirror before actually starting to brush. In no time it all the gross feeling was gone. _Ah, much better._ He rinsed out his mouth, splashed his face with some water and grabbed a comb, carefully raking it through his messy hair. Even if he was just going to throw his hat back on top, he liked it to be in order. He parted it neatly on the left side before sliding back on his chullo, taking one final glance in the mirror. Other than the pajamas, he looked pretty good.   
  
He’d get dressed later. First, breakfast. He’d hardly touched his dinner last night…

“Mooooooom!” Craig yelled, leaving the bathroom and hopping down the stairs. Someone else had already taken care of the cape he’d left there the day before, but he was still cautious. He didn’t want to fall and embarrass himself again. “Mom!”

“ _What?!_ Breakfast’s almost ready, hold your horses!”

Oh hell yes. He slid into the dining room, plopping down in a chair next to Ruby. She was messing with her phone, playing some sort of game.

“No phone at the table,” Craig hissed, giving her a shove. “Put that away before mom sees.”

Ruby just flipped him off and tapped a bit more before placing the phone in her lap, looking up innocently.

“Yeah, sure,” Craig muttered, a small smile creeping onto his face. “You’re lucky I don’t tell.”

Ruby just smiled back and stuck her tongue out at him. “You'd never do that to me and we both know it. You love me too much.”

He offered no comment, the presence of Ruby’s phone reminding him to check his again once he got back upstairs. He’d had no luck yet contacting Tweek, and Clyde had been bitching at him too much for him to want to check his phone just yet. That would be next on his agenda for sure, though.

“Alright, Craigy bear, Ruby roo, breakfast is served.” Mrs. Tucker clicked out of the kitchen on her low heels and set down a plate in front of each of her children.

“ _Mooooooooom,_ oh my _goddddd,_ ” Craig groaned, shooting her a glance. While was not too old for race car toothbrushes, he _had_ grown out of silly pet names. “That’s embarrassing, holy shit…”

“Craig, no cursing at the table. Save it for terrible movie night.” Laura set down some napkins, a smile on her face as she turned to leave. “Hurry up you two, mommy’s gotta get to work.”

“ _Mom,_ ” Craig stressed again, waving a hand at her before smacking it against his cheek in defeat. He turned his attention back to his breakfast; a couple of eggo waffles with an overload of syrup, just how he liked it. He would not hesitate to deny that he had a bit of a sweet tooth; however he did eat this same breakfast every single morning, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise. Nutritional value what? Balanced breakfast who? Craig had never heard of her.

Ruby picked at her scrambled eggs, glancing over every few seconds. “...So. Did he text ya back yet?”

“No, not yet. If he didn't message me yet I'll probably just talk to him at school.” Craig and Tweek always met at their lockers every school day morning. They were only one apart, so it was pretty easy. Craig was sure he didn't have anything to worry about.

“Well that sucks,” she said calmly, shrugging her shoulders.

“You’re a dick.”

Ruby smirked, giving a playful wiggle. “Say it again and I’ll tell _mom_.”

Craig rolled his eyes, scarfing down the rest of his waffles. “Doesn’t matter ‘cause I’m done first!” he yelled, bolting from the chair and up the stairs while Ruby screamed at him that he was cheating. First one done got dibs on the TV until they had to walk to school. Hell _fucking_ yes. He was going to enjoy that.

First though, he needed to get dressed and check his phone. There was just a little bit of hope in his chest that Tweek might have replied by now. Maybe he’d just gone to bed early or something dumb… Yeah, that had to be it.

Craig opened his messenger and scrolled through the notifications, but he couldn't see Tweek’s name anywhere. Well… Maybe he got caught up with getting ready. Yeah… Of course, that makes sense. He'll just talk to him at school.

Instead of focusing on what wasn’t there, Craig decided to deal with Clyde. He tapped on the notification and scrolled quickly through it all, sighing the deeper into the conversation he went. Clyde had no concept that double-texting was totally not cool. He’d sent maybe 20 long messages in a row talking about all sorts of nonsense. “Dude, I swear to god,” he muttered. Half of it was bullshit and the other half was conspiracies as to what happened to Tweek.

Delete, delete, delete.

What an idiot.

The next thing he noticed was a message from Jimmy. Curious, he tapped it open.

 

_10:27 PM Jimmy: hey craig the egg :-)_

_10:27 PM Jimmy: clyde said you dont know where tweek is did he not go home last night or something_

_10:28 PM Jimmy: that sounds like something out of a horror story lol did he die :-(_

 

“Not in the mood,” he muttered, deleting those as well. He set the phone down and turned to his closet, grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Easy peasy. He liked simple clothes that were comfortable; he didn’t understand how Token could wear those scratchy shirts or how Clyde would wear those bright colors or how Tweek could stand his buttons to be mismatched. Plain and simple and _predictable._ That’s how he liked it.

Craig tucked his phone into his back pocket before checking the clock on his dresser. Even if he wanted to, there was no time to watch the TV he’d so happily called dibs on. He’d stalled far too much. His morning routine now finished, he headed downstairs to get Ruby and leave for the day.

“Hey assmunch, c’mon. We gotta get to school,” he called, finding her in the living room.

Ruby flipped him off, her other hand gripping a small tube. “Fuck off Craigory, I'm putting on my lipgloss.”

“That's not even my name, why do you always call me that?”

“Craig, Ruby, no fighting.” Mrs. Tucker swooped into the room, bag tucked under her arm and keys in hand. “I’m heading off to work, you walk nicely to school, got it?” The two nodded and said their goodbyes, earning a hug and a kiss from their mom; the ultimate reward.

Craig watched her go, and Ruby waited until she was out the door before she punched Craig in the arm. “Let me finish getting ready, dicksniffer.” With that, she headed back to her room to put on the makeup she was probably too young to be wearing (it was stolen from her mom, but Craig was no rat. He wouldn't tell). Luckily she didn’t take long and with a quick return punch, the two headed out the door towards school.

It wasn’t a particularly long walk to get there; Craig would drop off Ruby at the elementary school down the street, and the junior high was just a bit further than that. The cold air stung at his cheeks, causing him to pull his thick coat closer, pop the collar and bury his mouth against the zipper. It was cold. Really cold. He missed winter break when they actually got to _play_ in the snow all day instead of trudge through it to get to boring old school.

Yuck.

Craig kicked at a pile, feeling the cold slush practically seep through his boots into his socks. He shivered, eyes glancing down for just a moment to wonder if the numbness in his toes was going to go away. It wasn’t fair that he always got cold. Tweek never got cold, it seemed. Or at least he never complained about it.

Tweek never really wore jackets. Even when there was a blizzard warning that one time, he'd been wearing nothing but jeans and his button up. He didn't even have snow boots or anything. Maybe that's why he was always shaking…

Stuff like that concerned Craig. He was worried about his boyfriend. Last time he asked about it, though, all he got was a weak _“I just like the cold.”_ He didn't buy it, but he didn't pry, either. He just left it be. Tweek would tell him if something was wrong, right?

Maybe he ought to start prying, just in case.

The thought came to him just as he passed the green house with the weird shutters and the freshly shoveled driveway. His eyes trailed upwards, staring at the front window on the second floor. It was Tweek’s house, and Tweek’s bedroom, more specifically, that he was intrigued by. The blinds were pulled tightly shut.

Craig knew Tweek didn’t like them all the way closed. He claimed he couldn’t see the murderers approaching his window if they were completely shut. Just like the missed texts, Tweek was closing him out from the comfort of his own bedroom window. This was just getting ridiculous.

“Craig, holy shit, hurry up! I’m gonna be late!” Ruby called from a bit down the sidewalk.

“You wouldn’t be late if you didn’t stall with that stupid makeup!” Craig called back, eyes still stuck on the window. He forced himself to move forward, again trudging through the thick snow. Tweek must already be at school by now, or else he’d have met him to walk together.

Yeah. That was it.

He walked onward.

Craig dropped Ruby off at school, and soon, he found himself standing in front of Park Middle School. Alright. It would be fine. Tweek would be right where he always was. Yeah.

“CRAIG! HOLY SHIT DUDE!”

Before he could turn around, Clyde had thrown his arms around his friend’s shoulders and nearly knocked him down into the snow.

“Get the fuck off me!” Craig shouted, flailing his arms, trying to smack him away. “Jesus _Christ,_ you scared the shit outta me!”

“Ex-fuckin’-scuse _me_ , Tucker, you haven’t been answering your phone since last night. I thought whatever got Tweek got you too or somethin’!” Clyde shouted back, arms still tightly locked around Craig’s neck. His short legs dangled off the ground as he put all his weight against the taller boy’s back, hanging like a limp koala bear.

Craig choked a bit and quickly detached his friend’s arms from around his throat, letting Clyde flop to the ground into a pile of slush. “Clyde, what the fuck? Are you trying to _kill_ me?” Christ in a convenience store, that was _way_ uncalled for!

“What’d he do this time?” Token’s voice asked, approaching from behind. He and Jimmy were coming over, both wearing amused expressions on their faces. Jimmy playfully kicked at the snow, getting it in Clyde’s face.

“Fuck all of you,” Clyde muttered, throwing a shoddily prepared snowball before shuffling back onto his feet. “Craig here was being a dipshit, not me.”

“Yeah, right,” Craig sneered, mimicking Jimmy and kicking up the snow towards his friend. “I was just _busy_ last night, okay? And this morning too. I’ve at least got a life, unlike you.”

“Children, _children_ , knock it off,” Token teased. “Craig, we all know you weren't busy last night with anything. Or this morning. Clyde, you are not Craig's boyfriend, stop acting like it.” He crossed his arms and looked them over.

“Whatever, _mom,_ ” Clyde snidely remarked, pressing a hand to his mouth and giggling obnoxiously. “I’m doin’ a better job at it than his actual one, at least. He’s totally playing hookie today and he won’t even text him back to tell him!”

Token frowned. “Tweek doesn't usually ditch. There's been no word from him?” He was… concerned.

Craig glared at Clyde. He was going to beat his ass during lunch break for sure. “Token, dude, if you’d have just _shown up_ yesterday, you’d know all about it.” Okay, maybe that was uncalled for, but he was frustrated. His face was turning red despite the cold. “He hasn’t texted me back since he left the game last night. It’s not even showing that the messages are read. I thought he was already at school but… none of you guys have seen him yet?”

The other teens shook their heads. Token was the first to speak. “You _know_ I was busy. Don't pretend I didn't want to.” He sighed. “Listen Craig, I'm sure he's just fine. You know how he gets sometimes, maybe he got sick and panicked. I'm sure he'll be back tomorrow.”

“And really, if you’re s-so fuckin’ w...worried ab...about him, just go to his h-house,” Jimmy said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Uh, are you guys fucking _stupid?_ ” Craig gasped, shaking his head. That was TOTALLY out of the question. There was nothing more that he hated than walking into the Tweak household. Sure, his boyfriend insisted he come over sometimes because it helped ‘ease the pressure’ between him and his parents, but the whole place was just bad vibes. Especially his parents. God, he couldn’t stand them. They were just too nice. “That’s literally never going to happen.”

“Then I guess you’re fucked,” Clyde laughed, eliciting a punch from Jimmy and a rightfully deserving _‘shut the fuck up’_.

“Owwww, Token, Token, Jimmy hit me!” Clyde whined, pointing a finger accusingly.

Token only walked up and punched him in the other arm. “That’s cuz you're being a bitch boy. Cut it out,” he said, voice rather playful.

Craig just stared and watched, not in the mood for their usual banter. He pulled his coat around his mouth again, eyes downcast. Nobody had seen Tweek yet. He was so sure that he’d be at school that the news was devastating. He was really getting worried now about him. The missed texts, the closed window, the school absence…

“D-dude, you okay?”

Jimmy’s voice snapped him back into reality, his eyes refocusing on the scene playing out in front of him. Both of his other friends were ganged up on Clyde now, taking turns shoving him back down to the ground every time he tried to get back up.

“Yeah, I’m fine… we should probably just get to class.” Craig took his time turning around, feeling a bit lost as he walked towards the building and pushed his way through the oversized double doors. His mind wandered as he made his way down the long, noisy hallways.

_What happened to Tweek Tweak?_


	3. Treading Lightly

_“Jesus, how much food did you pack?”_

_It was lunchtime at Park Middle School._

_Tweek sat at the table, sandwiched between Craig and Token like always. It made him feel secure, in a way. He’d packed two sandwiches, a bag of chips, three packs of fruit snacks, and a pastry from his parent’s coffee shop; not to mention his trusty coffee thermos, which he carried with him everywhere._

_“What? I get hungry, don't-- ack-- don't be jealous I get to pack my own lunch, bitch boy!”_

_Token shoved him hard, still staring at his lunchbox. “Dude, if you eat all of that, you’re gonna be fatter than Clyde.”_

_“The only w-way Tweek would get fuh-fatter than Clyde is if his mom w-wuh-was as big a fucking pushover as Cartman’s!” Jimmy snorted, poking Clyde in the stomach. Clyde socked him in the arm as retaliation, frowning at the laughter from around the table._

_“At least he has a mom,” Clyde grumbled, picking at his cafeteria plate. The food was just as gross as the elementary school, and Clyde always complained about how his dad made him buy it. He picked up a french fry delicately between two fingers before flinging it across the table, scoring a touchdown right into Tweek’s massive fluff of hair. “Hah, I win.”_

_“Win what? All you did was give me a fry!” Tweek picked the french fry out of his hair and dusted it off before happily popping it in his mouth._

_“EW, Tweek, that’s SICK,” Clyde gasped, tempted to throw another one at him in disgust. “You don’t know where that shit’s been.”_

_“Food is food,” the blond retorted, still chewing as he dug in his lunchbox for something else to start on. He was a naturally paranoid individual, and had it been anything else, he’d have thrown it back. However, he’d never turn down a snack. Growing up in a coffee shop made it no harder; There were always pastries in the display case for him to sneak, and there was plenty of coffee to wash it down with. Sure, he was a bit on the chubbier side, and he had been since he was younger, but he didn’t care. As long as Clyde was still the fat one of the group, he had nothing to worry about._

_“Whatever, it’s still nasty as fuck.” Clyde continued to pick at his meal, grimacing at the boarderline expired burger. “I’ll give you the rest of the fries if you gimmie one of those sandwiches.”_

_“You don’t need the carbs,” Craig muttered, mouth full of chips._

_“Neither does he!” Clyde shouted, this time aiming a fry at Craig’s face in threat. “Come on Tweek, pass it over.”_

_Tweek thought about it, considering the options. Hmmm… “Throw in your burger and I’ll give you some fruit snacks too.” Fruit snacks were like gold at their table. Everyone was crazy about them._

_“Deal, take this gross shit off my hands.” Clyde shoved the barely touched tray towards him, making grabby hands until he got what he wanted. Tweek passed over the baggied sandwich and the pack of fruit snacks as delicately and secretly as a drug dealer trying to avoid the cops. Clyde didn’t even hesitate to open the packet, nearly spilling the gummies all over the table in his haste._

_“I want one,” Token said, holding out a hand._

_“Tweek gave ‘em to me, not you,” Clyde said, selfishly dumping the entire packet into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously._

_“And you call_ me _gross…” Tweek muttered, rolling his eyes and taking a big bite out of the burger. Mm, He hadn't had a burger since the last time he'd traded lunches with Clyde. He didn't know what he was on about anyway, even if it was school food it still tasted really good! Then again, Tweek ate half a stale twinkie off the side of the road once. That was also pretty good, and definitely worth the food poisoning he got later._

_Honestly, he mostly ate whatever he could get his grubby little hands on because his parents never really let him have much at home. It was always just boring old rice or cereal nowadays. No butter or milk or whatever either! He was sure that was normal though… At any rate, he always tried to pack extra goodies for school, and he'd made an art out of sneaking food out of the shop. He was so sure he’d get caught and get sold into slavery like his parents always said, but the taste of those sweet danishes always lured him back in._

_“You’re both gross,” Craig said, mouth still full of chips. He held out the bag to Tweek, raising an eyebrow. “You want one?”_  

 _Tweek nodded, taking a few out of the bag and shoving it in his mouth. His eyes met Craig’s, his nose scrunching up as he grinned; The food stuffed in his cheeks only amplified how much he looked like a small animal. It only made Craig laugh in admiration before he leaned over, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek._  

 _Things were good._  

* * *

It had been one week since Tweek had gone quiet.

Craig sat at the breakfast table, eyes staring blankly at his familiar waffles smothered in syrup. His phone was buzzing excessively face up on the table next to him, but he refused to look at it. His mother had asked him the night before where her kitchen knife went.  His friends had been bitching him out all morning about how irresponsible he was being by not checking on Tweek at his house yet. They didn’t understand though; going to the Tweak house would probably make whatever was going on worse. Besides, if they cared so much, why weren’t _they_ going to talk to him? 

He glanced unhappily at the screen, watching the messages flow by.

 

_7:34 AM Token: dude i swear to god i will kick your ass when we get to school if you dont stop ignoring us_

_7:34 AM Clyde: holy shit tweeks probably deaddddddddddd like for real his parents got him this time 0-0_

_7:34 AM Jimmy: :-(_

_7:35 AM Jimmy: wow thats uncalled for_

_7:35 AM Clyde: ITS THE TRUTH HES PROBABLY IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE_

_7:36 AM Clyde: seriously think about it have you ever looked in his parents eyes like_

_7:36 AM Clyde: those are eyes of serial killers_

_7:36 AM Clyde: they finally snapped and got him_

_7:37 AM Token: clyde if you dont shut the fuck up im kicking your ass too_

 

Craig let out a loud groan, picking up his phone. He couldn’t ignore them forever- in less than an hour, he’d be with them at school.

 

_7:38 AM Craig: WHAT_

_7:38 AM Token: dude!!!!!!! What took you so long_

_7:38 AM Craig: i was eating breakfast like i just woke up_

_7:38 AM Token: you werent talking last night either dont give me that shit_

_7:39 AM Craig: im not gonna fucking respond if clyde is talking like that oh my god_

_7:39 AM Token: shut the fuck up clyde_

_7:39 AM Jimmy: yeah seriously :-o shut the fuck up_

_7:40 AM Clyde:  im taking a page outta coffee fucks book and just saying its a conspiracy man_

_7:40 AM Jimmy: dude we said shut the fuck up >:-( _

_7:40 AM Clyde: you shut up_

_7:40 AM Craig: tweeks part of this group chat if by some miracle he comes on he can see what youre saying_

 

There was a pause. The entire group went silent, the ‘typing’ bubbles disappearing. Craig sat back a bit in his chair, still refusing to touch his breakfast as he stared at the pictures on the wall in front of him. He couldn’t believe them. All they wanted to do was fight when they had a serious issue on their hands. There was a vibration, causing his attention to dart back down.

 

_7:42 AM Clyde: not if hes dead lol_

 

Craig let out a frustrated scream, nearly throwing his phone across the room. Instead he turned off the screen, letting it buzz and buzz against the glass of the table while he slammed his forehead down beside his plate.

This was gonna be a long day.

Half an hour later Craig found himself trudging along the edge of the sidewalk, dragging his feet as he walked alongside his sister. The previous conversation left him with a sour taste in his mouth and an uncomfortable clenching in his gut. Something was wrong, but he was too much of a pussy to check it out, and Tweek was probably suffering because of that. God, he was a shitty boyfriend.

He kicked at the snow in frustration, arms crossing as he passed the familiar green house. Every passing day he had to walk by it felt like a deeper and deeper stab to his abdomen. It was just too much to handle. He rushed past, leaving no hope that Tweek would come out and join him. He quickly dropped off Ruby and finished his trek to the middle school, preparing to be bombarded by his friends. This was just too overwhelming. He didn’t know what to do with himself.

Clyde spotted him first, and Craig moved out of the way just in time to let him ram into a locker instead of his chest.

“Ow fuck!” Clyde fell to the floor, holding his face.

“Serves you right.” He stepped back in place, rummaging through the books in his open locker. Jimmy and Token had caught up now, arguing audibly.

“If nobody does anything by the time school ends, we should call the police!” Token said, distressed. “If he’s fine then he’s fine, but if something happened then they’ll figure it out!”

“I told you he’s dead!” Clyde shouted from the ground. “And I think you broke my fucking nose, thanks Craig…”

“No he’s not!” Craig shouted back. They were drawing attention now, but he didn’t care. “And if you say that one more time I’ll make sure your nose really _is_ broken!”

It had been a while since any of them had been this hostile towards each other. The stress of the situation was tearing the group apart.

Craig looked over Token’s shoulder, about to continue what he was saying, but then--

Then he saw Tweek.

He immediately shoved the others out of the way, sprinting towards his boyfriend. He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but there was no doubt about it; Tweek was standing right there at the end of the hallway. As soon as Craig reached him his arms were around his shoulders, pulling him close in relief.

The embrace felt… wrong.

Tweek was downright clinging to him, and he was shaking so bad, it was like he was gonna fall apart if he let go…

“Tweek, what ha--”

“I don't want-- ACK! -- C-can’t talk ab--... about it..” Tweek barely managed to stutter out.

This was wrong. This was all wrong. Craig pulled back, getting a good look at him for the first time in a week. Everything familiar about his face seemed gone. His features looked sunken in, cheekbones much more prominent. There were bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep, his lips pulled tight in worry. Bandaids littered his chin. He had smeared something, maybe concealer, around his left eye; Craig could tell due to the sudden disappearance of the freckles that littered everywhere else on his body. His eyes trailed downward out of habit, unable to help himself. He looked thinner everywhere, not just in his face. His weight was mostly just on one leg, even with the clinging.

“Tweek,” he whispered, unsure what to do.

Tweek just shook his head and buried his face in Craig’s chest. He didn't say anything, but the way his shoulders started heaving indicated that he was crying.

“It’s okay,” Craig whispered, kissing the top of his head despite the aching worry in his stomach. Tweek was a little shaky and paranoid, but nothing had ever gotten him down like this before. He was a fighter and he could always stand up for himself.

Craig knew that something absolutely terrible must have happened.

“C-could you-- ngh-- could you take-- ack-- take me to class...?”

Craig looked down again, meeting Tweek’s tired, sad eyes. “Yeah, of course. Just like we always do, right?” They’d usually take turns walking each other to class. He offered a small smile, hoping for one in return. Or something. Anything.

“Just like we always do,” Tweek whispered back, but the familiar smile was missing.

With Tweek still clinging to his arm for balance, the two made their way down the hallway. Once they were at Tweek’s homeroom, Craig kissed him gently on the cheek before watching him practically limp away. The sight alone was enough to make him feel sick. With a terrible feeling in his gut, he turned back up the hall to his own classroom. At least he shared it with Token. He needed help sorting all this out.

Token turned to look behind him when Craig plopped down in his seat. It was obvious he knew something was wrong; how couldn't he with the reunion he witnessed.

“Hey man, wanna tell me what's on your mind?”

Craig glanced up from his staredown with the grain of his desk, a look of concern all over his face. “I dunno what to do about him,” he said bluntly, unsure what else to say. “I don't even know what happened to him. He just shows up and tries to pretend nothing went down, but I know something did and it was bad. Did you see his leg? His face?”

Token frowned, expression darkening slightly. “I'm not sure Craig. I… I don't know. Maybe it had something to do with his parents. Clyde may be an idiot, but he was right about one thing. They're shady as fuck.”

“Jesus _Christ,_ ” Craig muttered, lowering his head so his mouth rested against his hands on his desk. His fingers drummed loudly on the wood for a few moments as he considered it. If something went down with his parents _,_ Tweek would say something. He'd stand up to them. He'd call the police probably. “Maybe the Tweak’s were involved, I dunno,” he admitted, lifting his chin. “But for real, if they were, Tweek wouldn't just take it lying down.”

Token thought for a second. “Well, _I_ still think they do something to the poor kid.” He paused. “Maybe he's with a bad crowd? Coulda got beat up on the streets.”

“Tweek would _never_ join a gang,” Craig said quickly, wanting to get the image out of his head immediately. Tweek would crack under that sort of pressure. He hated conflict. “He’d kill someone before they touched him anyway,” Craig added cockily. “He’s tough.”

Token sighed. “We all know Tweek is tough Craig, he's definitely tougher than you, but that doesn't mean it isn't possible. Come on, maybe it _was_ his parents.  They coulda forced him into it… They're some pretty creepy people.”

“It’s not his fucking parents because if it was his parents, _I_ would know!” Craig insisted, frustrated. Tweek told him _everything._ He felt so in the dark without a lead. “He tells me stuff! He does!”

“Chill out, dude,” Token muttered, waving his hand. “Has he ever told you anything about his parents before? Just cuz he's your boyfriend doesn't mean he's gonna be telling you everything. People have secrets.”

“I dunno…” Craig trailed off, thinking about it. His arms were crossed in defeat, slumped over in his chair. “He’s pissed that they make him do delivery runs and he’s paranoid they’re always watching him, but that’s just Tweek being Tweek. They’re weird and all, but they seem to care about him, so…” The teacher was calling attention to the front of the class now. Craig silently gave Token a look that meant they’d talk after class before yanking on the flaps of his hat, pulling it lower over his forehead.

Ugh.

This fucking sucked.

* * *

 

_His breath caught as his head slammed against the wall, choking against the forearm jabbed into his neck. His palms pressed into the surface of the wall for a moment to balance himself before desperately scratching at the skin._

_“Stop,” he gasped, voice barely there. He kicked with his good leg in an attempt to free himself, eyes darting wildly in fear.  “Don’t…I’ll d-do it right next time, I...I promise! I won’t tell!”_

_The force only pressed harder, relishing in the look on his face._

 

* * *

 

 

“Jesus, how much food did you pack?”

It was lunch time at Park Middle School.

Tweek sat at the table, sandwiched between Craig and Token like always. His hands were pressed tightly together in his lap, expression numb. Token was pushing Clyde as he tried to steal his full lunchbox; for once he’d attempted to make his own lunch, and it was stuffed with snacks.

Craig had his own food set out, but it was hard to focus on it when Tweek was so silent beside him. “H-hey, you gonna eat?” he asked quietly, finally acknowledging him and the odd absence of a lunch box on the table.

Tweek just hunched in on himself, starting to tremble. “No. Not h-... Not hungry--”

“You? Not hungry?” Craig interrupted, eyes wide. “Dude, what the fuck… you’re _always_ hungry.” Tweek never turned down a meal. “Here just…” He dug through his lunch, pulling out a bag of chips. “It’s those really salty ones you like. The ones you always steal from me, remember? You can have some if you want. You don’t even have to punch me to get them.”

Tweek shook his head. “I s- nngh… I said I'm n-not hungry.” He bit at his lip, still refusing to look at his boyfriend.

Craig slowly retracted his outreached hand, eyes darting down to the bag. Nothing was wrong with them, right? They were the _exact_ same kind as he’d always packed. He set it back into the box next to his sandwich, an anxious feeling sitting in his stomach. “Uh… that’s… that’s okay. That’s fine.”

No.

This was not fine.

“So what were you doing last week?” Craig blurted, forcing a smile. “Ditch for anything good?” He was getting desperate.

Tweek flinched. “I, um… No. No I-- ack-- I was-- I was s-- nnnngh-- I was sick! Just um-- just sick.” He didn't exactly look convinced.

Sick. Well, that could explain his absence and his terrible shape, but… “You got a black eye or somethin’?” Craig continued, gesturing to the odd colored spot on his face. “You’re pretty shit at covering it up. Come on, tell me.”

Tweek frowned deeper and shook his head. “I-I- I doon’t wanna talk-- agh-- wanna talk about thi--this.”

Craig frowned, eyes darting back to his other three friends. They were goofing around like normal, throwing food and trying to shove each other off the table. It was as if the last week’s panic had completely disappeared.

He really wished last week didn't exist at _all_. Then maybe Tweek would talk to him.

“Fine,” he said, turning back to his food. That was it. He'd made his decision. If Tweek wasn't going to tell him, he was going to figure it out himself. Slightly annoyed, he pulled a bag of carrots out of the lunchbox, crunching them thoughtfully. The real question here was how he would do it.

The rest of lunch was spent in relative silence, only a few glances being exchanged between nervous bites of baby carrots and turkey sandwiches. The bell eventually rang, and Craig stood, bringing Tweek up with him. They just so happened to have a class in the same area, so they'd usually walk there together. Despite how concerning Tweek had been acting, it seemed that that little ritual wouldn't be changing. For once that day, Craig felt like things were somewhat normal.

And then Tweek fucking decked some kid.

It happened fast-- too fast for anyone to stop it. Someone brushed by the two of them, and as if on a reflex, Tweek turned around and threw a left hook. The crack could be heard throughout the school.

“JESUS CHRIST!” Craig screamed, whipping around in shock at the scene unfolding before him. One second Tweek had been at his side, and the next on top of an unsuspecting kid with his fingers laced tightly around his neck. He was screaming unintelligibly, eyes wild with a mix of fear and adrenaline. Half the school was watching in awe, and Craig felt paralyzed. “Tweek...Tweek stop,” he muttered, unable to move his feet to stop him. He’d never done this before. He’d never done this before!

 _He'd got him. He'd got him in his clutches and Tweek had to fight back, not again, he was not doing this again. No, he didn't want to get hurt again, not now, not_ **_ever_ ** _._

Tweek blinked, and suddenly he wasn't where he thought he was. Oh-- Oh. He looked down at the terrified kid and shot up immediately. Then, as was probably best in this situation, he made a run for it the best he could with his injured leg.

Craig just watched him go, still frozen in place. The kid’s nose was bleeding. His neck was bright red, Tweek’s hands imprinted on his skin. Craig took a shaky breath before stepping backwards, trying to take it all in. “I’m...really fucking sorry,” he muttered awkwardly before taking off after Tweek, caught somewhere between fear and embarrassment.

It took about half hour for Craig to find him huddled next to the stairs out back behind the school. It was one of his many usual hiding spots when things went wrong or became too much to handle. He sat down without asking, because at this point, there was no doubt in his mind that Tweek needed comfort. Without a single word, the two of them gravitated towards each other, Craig wrapping his arms around him and bringing him closer. Other than their breathing and the wind kicking up the snow, there was silence.

“Even if you won’t tell me,” Craig whispered, mouth pressing against the top of his head, “I’m gonna fix this, okay? I promise.

  
And Craig Tucker never backed down on a promise.


End file.
